


The Salty Sea

by TooManyPodcasts



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Pirate AU, Sort of weird to have a pirate AU since they were actually pirates in canon, but here it is anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyPodcasts/pseuds/TooManyPodcasts
Summary: Jester accidentally stows away on a pirate ship.





	1. Chapter 1

Port Zoon was known for a number of things. It was one of the Clovis Concorde's most prominent cities, a center of trade (both legal and not-so-legal), the favorite port of many sailors, and the home of the finest temple complex on the coast. Pilgrims and travelers from all over Wildemount came to stroll along the white stone paths or pray at one of the many shrines. The centerpiece of it all was a massive mural depicting the triumph of the Prime Deities over the Betrayer Gods. Nearly 20 meters long and intricately detailed, it was the city's pride and joy. Jester had just finished painting the handle of the Lawbearer's axe into something much more phallic when everything went wrong.

 

It was midsummer, and mid-afternoon, and by all rights everyone should have been hiding from the heat in their homes. No sane person, except for her of course, should have been out at this time of day, much less enduring the blinding white stone of the temple grounds. But someone must have been, because just as she set her paint down there was a shout, echoing between the buildings. She turned only long enough to see an angry priest rushing towards her, and then she snatched up her paints and ran.

 

At first, the chase was fun. That was before the single shouting voice had become an entire patrol of shouting voices and clanking armor. Jester, as a tiefling, was barely affected by the heat, but even she began to tire as each street corner she turned seemed to open up on another group of Zolezzo. They were surrounding her now, must have come running from every corner of the city. She heard them behind her, in front of her, everywhere as she ducked and dodged. There was no time to cast spells, no time to find a place to hide. She jumped fences, ran down alleyways, staying just barely out of reach. Maybe defacing the city's most important monument hadn't been the _best_ idea.

 

She kept running, panting now, breath tearing stitches up and down her side. She couldn't be caught here, she _couldn't_ be. Not with her freedom so new and precious to her, not miles and miles from her mama and her home. She ran. She ran and ran until--nothing. No more buildings in front of her. Only the wide, gleaming, expanse of the sea. She’d reached the city wharf, and there was only one direction she could go. Praying that the traveler would protect her sketchbooks, she dove in.

 

The water was painfully cold against her sweaty skin, and her arms and legs felt leaden. She held her breath for as long as she possibly could, swimming in what she hoped was the direction of the docks. Only when she felt the chill shadow of wood above her did she come up for air, rapidly blinking the sting of salt water from her eyes. A sudden wave pushed her forward, and she had to paddle hard to keep from slamming into the musselshell-sharp surface of the pilings. Exhausted, and beginning to shiver, she swam towards a small row boat and clung to it, bobbing up and down with the waves.

 

It was by no means a comfortable place to rest. Stinging pain struck her as the motion brought her legs in contact with the barnacled bottom of the boat, and she had to keep one hand above her head to keep from smacking into the bottom of the dock with each wave. Still, safe in the shadow of the pier, she took a moment to watch the Zolezzo swarming the warf like a bunch of glittering insects.

 

They looked so _silly_ , she thought, with their ruddy faces and flapping mouths. More like fish than insects, actually, with armor for scales. Like fish with people's faces, flopping around looking for her. The thought almost made her giggle. She would have to draw it for the Traveler later, if her sketchbook was alright.

 

Assuming she got out of here, of course. She didn't have long before one of them thought to check under the docks, and she needed to find a better hiding place before that happened. A quick scan of the shoreline gave her little hope. There was nowhere she could climb out without being immediately spotted. Maybe she could swim out to sea, and make her way along the coast? The thought made her shudder. There were sharks in the harbor, she'd heard, and the short swimming lessons Blude had given her as a child were nowhere near enough to prepare her for that kind of distance.

 

Growing desperate, she turned her gaze on the various boats dotting the harbor. Maybe she could climb an anchor chain, all sneaky-like, and hide on board until the Zolezzo had given up? She was _really_ stealthy after all. A mountain of crates on the next pier over caught her eye and she grinned. Even better.

 

Taking a deep breath, she dove, swam, and came up again beneath the second pier. Careful to stay out of sight, she used the motion of a wave to pull herself up and onto the dock, then crouched low behind a large crate. After quickly checking it for traps, she pried the lid up to peek inside. It was filled with unlabeled brown sacks of something that shifted beneath her hands. Some kind of powder. Flour maybe? With a quick apology to the owner, she started pulling them out; slipping one gently into the water behind her each time a wave came high enough to mask the splash.

 

She was really lucky these crates were stacked so close to the end of the dock, she thought. Why they were piled here instead of further in, she had no idea, but she sent the Traveler a quick prayer of gratitude anyways. When she had made enough room for herself she clambered in, as stealthily as she could, and pulled the lid closed.

 

It was cramped, of course. Horribly so. She curled in on herself, her head pillowed on one of the flour sacks, already dreading the hours she would have to spend trapped in here. It smelled unpleasantly sulfuric in the crate. Weird. That was weird. Something told her she should follow that thought, but the flour sacks...were...surprisingly...comfor--

 

Jester slept.

 

Exhausted by the chase, and the swim, and the damp, she slept. She slept as the sun sank lower in the sky, and the heat broke and the town came alive again. She slept through the sound of a skiff pulling up to the dock, through a handshake and a southern drawl nearby saying “pleasure doing business with you.”

 

She slept through the jostle of her crate, and several others, being loaded into the skiff, and through their creaking, swaying journey by rope up to the deck of a ship. She slept as the ship set sail again, away from Port Zoon, farther away from Nicodranas, farther and farther away from the only home she'd ever known.

 

She did _not_ sleep through the crate being opened later that night, but by then it was too late.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Old-timey pirates used to keep their ranks full by forcing sailors and officers from captured ships to join them.

 

Captain Beauregard Lionette had already had a long day by the time _Lion's Mane_ set sail from Port Zoon. The city was a favorite of many pirate crews, and they’d been planning to spend a whole week there. The ship’s hull needed to be scraped free of barnacles, and the crew needed to unwind and spend their hard-earned money.

 

As one of the few friendly ports on the mainland, Port Zoon offered the finest assortment of brothels and taverns this side of the law. City officials turned a blind eye to illicit activities since, in the end, they didn't much care where your gold came from, as long as you spent it. Her crew had been looking forward to some long delayed shore-leave, and tempers began to run high the moment the lookout spotted a Concorde Navy ship in the harbor.

 

The ship--distinctive even from this distance--was one the crew was intimately familiar with. The _Cormorant._ She carried nearly twice the guns as the _Lion's Mane_ and three times as many sailors. Worse, her captain would recognize anyone from the Mighty Nein on sight. They'd had to anchor out of sight behind the curve of the island, sending a disguised Fjord in to buy only the most necessary supplies.

 

They had plenty of food now, and gunpowder, but the hull still needed to be scraped and the water barrels needed to be refilled. Thanks the the _Cormorant_ , they would have to put in at one of the Swavain isles and risk an encounter with the local wildlife.

 

Yes, Beau had had a long and irritating day, and that was _before_ her Master Gunner started screaming.

 

About two hours after they set sail from Port Zoon, as the evening lengthened into night and the moon hung low above the dark water, an echoing shriek came from below decks, shattering the relative calm. Beau and Yasha both jumped to their feet, playing cards scattering as the motion shook their small folding table. Caleb rose more cautiously, his gaze darting around, his hands already skimming through component pouches.

 

Beau strode forward to lean over the quarterdeck's rail, keeping her posture relaxed and confident. No matter what gods damned emergency was happening now, a captain was always in control. A quick scan of the main deck below took in a dozen off-duty sailors scrambling for their weapons--tankards and gaming pieces abandoned--and a green flash near the bow told her the Quartermaster had summoned his falchion.

 

“WHAT THE _FUCK_ DID YOU DO TO MY GUNPOWDER?” The broken glass, nails on a chalkboard screech belonged to Nott. A moment later there was the sound of feet stomping up stairs, and Nott's short form emerged from the hatch, towing someone behind her.

 

“CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! WE HAVE A STOWAWAY AND SHE'S RUINED ALL MY GODS DAMNED GUNPOWDER!” She shrieked, pulling the figure roughly up onto the deck.

 

Well, at least they weren't actively being attacked, Beau thought. Then Nott's words sunk in.

 

Shit. _Shit_. That gunpowder had been expensive! Nott had better be exaggerating, or Beau was going to go fucking ballistic.

 

Despite the lit torches, it was too dark for her to see the intruder's face. Beau shot a look over at Caleb. Her Sailing Master had moved to stand behind the helm, ready to steer them out of danger. Or into it, if need be. He caught her eye and gave a slight nod.

 

“Lights.” She said, and swung herself over the railing to land on the main deck just in front of the intruder. At the same moment, Caleb's dancing lights burst into being behind her, illuminating the dramatic flare of her coat as she landed. The performance was important, a show of strength for the crew, but Beau had to admit she enjoyed the theatrics, just a little bit. It certainly had the intended effect on the intruder, who had gasped loudly when Beau jumped. Then the lights flared on, and it was Beau who almost gasped.

 

Their unexpected visitor was, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

 

The sapphire-blue tiefling was staring at her with with an almost comically shocked expression, her body bent awkwardly to keep from stumbling as the much shorter goblin dragged her by the arm. The girl's hair was a tangled mess about her face and horns, and her clothing woefully bedraggled, but Beau still felt her heart stutter when their eyes met. She nearly commanded Nott to let her go, but then she remembered the damned gunpowder, and the little problem of how she'd gotten here in the first place. _No one_ got on Beau's ship without her knowing about it.

 

“Who are you?” Beau snapped out, more focused on disguising her reaction than on controlling the harshness of her voice. “And what the hell are you doing on my ship?”

 

The tiefling jumped a little, but smiled brightly.

 

“Well, um, my name is Jester, and I totally didn't mean to end up on your ship. I was just hid--resting in a crate, y'know like we always do in Port Zoon, it's totally normal, and I accidentally fell asleep, and when I woke up I was here. Surprise!!”

 

Beau had always found the coastal accent a little irritating, but Jester's cheerful voice made it seem charming. A local girl then, from Port Zoon or nearby Nicodranas.

 

“Oh sure, but you tossed out half our gunpowder first,” Nott snarled, giving Jester's arm a vicious shake. “And soaked the rest of it through with your wet clothes.”

 

_Fuck._

 

Beau wanted to drop her head into her hands, or scream, or punch a wall. Not only had that powder been expensive, it was _necessary_ . They were fucking pirates. Without gunpowder they couldn't take prize ships or defend themselves. And they had already been running low. Fury sprang up in her, sharp and consuming. Her crew was in _danger_ , because some idiot local decided to take a nap where she didn't belong. Internally, she cursed the stowaway using every foul word she knew--an extensive list--but on the outside she remained calm in front of the crew. Well, at least as calm as she ever was.

 

“Tie her up and lock her in the hold.” She growled, “and get a team to start bringing the powder sacks up to dry. We'll have to hope that some of it can be saved.”

 

“Wait!” Jester gasped, her eyes going wide. “I'm really really sorry about your gunpowder, that was super shitty of me. I don't have that much gold with me because I spent a lot of it in Port Zoon, but I will Send a message to my mama _right_ now and she will totally pay you back because she loves me a lot and I really don't want to be locked up please.”

 

“Oh, great, a rich girl.” Nott grumbled, but Beau's attention had been caught by something else.

 

“How do you plan to do that? We're in the middle of the ocean, in case you hadn't noticed.”

 

Seeming to sense an in, the tiefling jumped on it with a look of slight desperation. “Yeah but I'm like _really_ good at magic. I can mend things and talk to people who are really far away and heal and and--oh! I can create food and water! That's definitely helpful on a ship. Also, I'm like, super strong! I can definitely be useful to you.”

 

“Well. Maybe you can be.” Beau said, slowly. The anger had faded as the girl spoke, replaced by cautious excitement swirling in her gut. If what Jester said was true, then Beau had happened on something a lot more valuable than gunpowder. She heard a chorus of whispers from the watching sailors and allowed a grin to spread across her face. With a quick motion, she drew her belt knife and slashed it hard across the back of her left hand. Ignoring the burst of pain, she held it up so the blood shone in the light of Caleb's spell.

 

“Well?” She said, holding out her stinging hand. “What are you waiting for? Heal me.”

 

Jester gave a quiet squeak before reaching for her. Beau absolutely did not think about how soft Jester's hands were, or how warm they felt against her skin. Instead she focused on the sudden, tingling flash of magic that ran through her fingertips, sealing shut the small wound.

 

“Huh.” She said, grinning even wider. She held up her hand again for everyone to see. By now the commotion had drawn the rest of the crew, including the officers. Pitching her voice to carry, she shouted out to the fifty or so men and women gathered on the main deck.

“Listen up assholes! Looks like the Quartermaster went out and got us a new surgeon! Thank him for saving your sorry hides!”

 

A resounding cheer went up, even as Jester blanched.

 

“No!” She started, “I, I'm sure your crew is great but I'm not interested in being a merchant. There's someone I need to find; I need to get back to shore. Couldn't you please just, like, drop me off somewhere? I will pay you back for the gunpowder, I promise.”

 

Beau felt a quick flash of pity, but it was easily crushed. A captain's duty was to her crew, after all, and with the war on anyone with healing abilities should have known to stay the hell away from the sea. Plus, the tiefling _had_ endangered her crew by ruining their powder stores.

 

“Well you're in luck, because we aren't merchants.” She said, clapping Jester's shoulder cheerfully. “And, unfortunately, I wasn't asking.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jester awoke to sunlight on her face and the feeling of her bed gently rocking. She was lying beneath a pile of soft blankets, gazing up at a ceiling of dark wood. For a long moment, she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten here. There was a shout, somewhere far above, and an answering voice called back. The wooden walls around her creaked and then, suddenly, the entire room listed slightly to the side. She could hear, distantly, the flap of sails and the rhythmic sucking motion of waves against the side of the pirate ship--and suddenly Jester was very _very_ awake.

 

Pirates.

 

She was on a pirate ship.

 

Ohhhh she was so fuuuccckkked. Growing up on the coast, _everyone_ knew the stories about pirates. Not the romantic, even heroic, stories she sometimes read in books from the Dwendalian Empire. These were the stories ship captains told each other, angry and loud enough for a little girl to hear from her hiding place beneath the bar. They were the stories sailors told her mama, grisly and full of bloodshed, as if that would impress her. They were the stories whispered by the Chateaux's maids, a little exciting, but still cautionary.

 

Pirates, to a coastal city, were a force of death and destruction. More than one of her Mama's good customers had been ruined by a lost ship, and Jester had seen the scars and missing limbs that came from the fighting. Nicodranas itself had never been attacked, at least not in Jester's lifetime, but pirates had burned down a nearby village just last year. Pirates were thieves and murderers. Their crews were made up of monsters and barbarians and evil wizards, and were captained by crazed despots.

 

This crew was surely the same. The creature that had pried her from the crate last night had been a _goblin_ , the first Jester had ever seen. She wore proof of their wizard's powers around her wrist, which was why she hadn't escaped in the night. As for the captain--here Jester's thoughts paused, momentarily arrested by the image of the woman leaping from above, her movements as graceful as an acrobats, but her eyes and voice sharp with a barely contained fury. The Captain--Beau, as she'd been told to call her--had acted much friendlier once she'd found out Jester was a healer, but the anger she'd seen in the woman's eyes still gave her chills. She reminded Jester of a tiger; beautiful, but deadly.

 

And Jester had just become her prisoner.

 

Holding in her sigh and fixing a slight smile on her face, just in case the Traveler was watching, Jester rose and set about examining her small room. She hadn't been given a light last night, so what exploring she'd done had been in the dark. The first thing she'd discovered was that, although there was a relatively comfortable bed and other basic bedroom furniture, the place had obviously been being used as a store room. She'd had to weave between crates and barrels and remove two massive coils of rope from her new bed.

 

The second thing she'd learned was that the door locked only from the outside.

 

The third was that the bracelet “Caleb” had tied around her wrist before leading her to her room--her _cell_ \--was impossible to remove by herself. It was also _really_ effective at suppressing her magic. She tried casting everything from Mending to Dispel Magic, and nothing worked. She tried reaching out to the Traveler, trying to feel him through the link her magic had always provided her. Nothing.

 

This discovery had spiraled her into a panic. She had thrown herself bodily against the door, trying to break it down. She'd kicked the lock, pulled at the handle, screamed for someone to _let her out_. Then she'd turned on the bracelet.

 

In the light of day, she winced to see the mess she'd made of her wrist. Normally, the scratches and bruises would have healed overnight, but while cut off from the Traveler she had neither her spells nor her preternaturally fast healing rate.

 

Similarly, the daylight did no favors for the small bedroom. It was dusty and cramped, with only a single tiny window. Nearly every flat surface was covered in stored goods, and only a thin path between the bed and the door had been left free of the clutter. Feeling suffocated and terribly alone, Jester pulled out her sketchbooks, relieved to find that the Traveler had indeed protected them from yesterday's swim. If she couldn't reach him through their magical link, at least she could reach him through her drawings.

 

Just as she started laying her pencils out, there was a knock at the door. Sourly, she wondered what would happen if she didn't answer. She was a prisoner after all, so they would probably just open the door anyways.

 

“Come in!” She called after a moment.

 

With a click of the lock, the door opened to reveal a massive, furry, head. A firbolg man, so tall he had to stoop to look through the doorway.

 

“Hello there.” He said. “My name's Caduceus. Caduceus Clay.” His voice was surprisingly calm, even gentle, as if she were a small animal he didn't want to frighten. There was a bundle of clothing tucked under one arm and he was carrying a tray. When he ducked into the room she saw that it held a teapot, two cups, and a plate piled with cheese, bread, and dried fruit. He set it, and the clothes, on a crate near the bed and smiled at her.

 

“May I sit?” he asked, gesturing at another crate. Jester nodded, a little surprised that he'd bothered to ask. He settled himself, pouring tea into both cups and handing her one. It smelled nice, floral and a little smoky, and the cup was pleasantly warm in her hands. He took a sip of his and handed her the plate, gesturing for her to eat. Suddenly Jester realized she was ravenous. For a moment she wondered if it was wise to eat what pirates gave her, but she didn't see how her situation could get much worse.

 

For a moment they sat in surprisingly companionable silence, Caduceus sipping his tea and Jester eating.

 

“Well Miss--Jester, right?--I'm sure you must have some questions about your new...situation.” He said, after a while. “But first I want to assure you that you will be in no danger during our time with us.”

 

He must have seen the skepticism in her expression, because he chuckled.

 

“No, really, no one here will hurt you. Nott and Beau may have seemed a bit prickly last night--Nott is the goblin you met, by the way--but they'll have calmed down by now. And, because you're a healer, Beau won't ask you to fight, or even to sign the Articles, so you won't have to worry about a piracy charge back home either.”

 

Jester felt her stomach drop to her knees. She hadn't even _considered_ a piracy charge.

“What are the Articles? Why will that keep me from being arrested? Also, I'm a healer, but I'm not, like, _that_ powerful. And I don't know how to sail or _anything_ , so couldn't you guys just let me go? I'm looking for someone and...and…” She trailed off at the sympathetic look on Caduceus’ face.

 

“Unfortunately, that's not going to happen. Beau cares too much about her crew.”

 

“What do you mean?” She asked. From what she'd heard about pirates, 'caring too much about the crew’ didn't seem like a common affliction.

 

Caduceus gave a half-shrug, his expression shifting to a fond smile. “The captain takes her responsibilities seriously. I'm a fair hand with healing myself, but I can't be everywhere. If keeping you with us for a few months will save lives then that's what she'll do.” He paused to refill his cup, offering the teapot to her as well. She refused, ignoring the flash of guilt she felt at his disappointed expression.

 

“As for the Articles,” he continued, after a moment, “they're...a constitution of sorts. Signing them makes you one of us, part of our family and our crew. Conversely, not signing means you can deny any piracy charges even under Zone of Truth.”

 

That was... certainly reassuring. “You said a few months?” She asked after a moment.

 

He smiled, reaching over to pat her hand. His palms were massive, the back of his hand dusted with blue-grey fur. “Just until we take a ship with another healer on board. Then we'll send you on your way, with plenty of coin for your troubles.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really. You mentioned you were looking for someone? I'm sure Mr. Caleb could be convinced to steer us in the direction you're heading once we're done re-supplying.”

 

“My father.” Jester said, surprised by the offer. “I wasn't really heading in any direction though. I don't know where he is.”

 

Caduceus cocked his head to the side, letting out a pleased “hmmmm”.

 

“Well, Miss Jester, I've always been a big believer in destiny. Seems to me that if you don't know what direction you were meant to be heading, then coming along with us is as good as traveling alone.”

 

Jester hesitated for a moment, but then shook her head. “Sorry, but I know _all_ about pirates. I won't help you guys when you're just going to hurt people.”

 

She braced herself for his anger, but the firbolg just nodded.

 

“I understand.” He said, looking at her as if he could see her soul. “Still, you came to us in a very strange way, and as a fellow cleric I can't help but wonder if someone, well, led you here. Why that may be, I'm not sure, but destiny can be strange sometimes. Come up on deck for a bit and get to know the crew. You may learn some things that surprise you.”

  


*****

 

Jester tried, at first, not to follow Caduceus's advice. Well, she went up on deck immediately, of course--anything was better than being trapped in such a small room. She told herself she would avoid talking with the pirates though, since nothing good could come of it. That conviction lasted for a grand total of five minutes.

 

****

 

Jester emerged from below decks into the light of the mid-morning sun. Life on board the ship was in full swing, the air filled with snatches of talk and laughter as the pirates went about their daily tasks. The ocean was a vibrant blue, sparkling where the sun touched it, and the breeze carried the faint taste of salt. Jester had been on a boat before, but never out of sight of land, and she'd never understood how _big_ the ocean really was. It stretched on forever in every direction, on and on until it met the lighter blue of the sky. It was overwhelming. It was _beautiful._ Captivated, she wandered out onto the deck, dodging between sailors and trying to ignore the curious, sometimes suspicious, looks they shot her.

 

“Watch the boom!” Someone shouted behind her, voice urgent. Jester turned to look and could suddenly see nothing except the _very large_ log of wood swinging towards her face _very quickly._ Before she could react, or even make a sound, a clawed hand was on her arm, tugging her sharply down. Half falling, half sitting, she hit the deck with a thump just as the free-swinging part of the mast passed over her head.

 

Jester turned to thank her rescuer, and had to hold in a gasp of surprise when she came face to face with the bulging yellow eyes and protruding teeth of a goblin. The same goblin, she thought, as the one who'd found her in the crate.

 

“Thank you.” She managed instead.

 

The goblin laughed. The sound was like glass breaking, or like rocks rolling down a hill, but it didn't seem mocking or rude.

 

“You really aren't a sailor, huh?” She smiled like she expected Jester to smile with her, and after a moment Jester did.

 

“No, I'm really not.” She said, and suddenly she could see the humor in her situation, and she started to giggle. Who would have thought that she, Jester Lavore, who'd spent her entire life indoors, would end up chatting with a goblin on a pirate ship? But she'd wanted adventure hadn't she? To see the world and meet strange people and do great deeds? In a way she'd gotten exactly what she'd wanted. Maybe Caduceus had been right, after all. She would have to ask the Traveler as soon as she got this damn bracelet off, if he didn't show up on his own before then.

 

The goblin looked a little off put by her sudden laughing fit. Her expression conflicted, she settled a hand gently on Jester's shoulder, seeming to decide Jester needed comforting.

 

“Hey hey, it's okay, no one expects you to know how to sail. You can just stay in your cabin unless someone gets hurt.”

 

For a moment, the notion of being comforted by a goblin made her laugh even harder, but she slowly got herself under control. Clearly the stories she'd heard about goblins were wrong, because this girl--woman?--seemed as kind and intelligent as anyone she'd ever met.

 

“I'm okay,” she said after a moment, and smiled because it was true. “ I'm Jester, what's your name? I think Caduceus said it was Nott?”

 

“Yep,” the goblin said, “Nott, the Brave. Or Master Gunner to the crew.”

 

“Wow, that's a _really_ cool name! Do you think you could show me around Nott? I mean, if you have time and stuff.”

 

“Of course!” The goblin grinned, helping Jester to her feet. Then she started walking away, pointing out different parts of the ship as she did so. By lunch time, Jester's mind was dizzy with names and ship parts and funny anecdotes, and she was _ecstatic_ . She didn't think she'd ever met this many people in her life! Oh, she'd spied on the patrons of the Chateaux, and that was _kind_ of like meeting them, but this was so much different. The people on this ship, especially the officers, were all so _interesting_. And shockingly nice. Almost all of the people Nott introduced her to had seemed genuinely pleased to have her on board. Her gun powder crimes, it seemed, had been fully forgiven the second they found out she was a healer. Even the Captain had given her a friendly (she assumed) thump on the back and said she hoped Jester was settling in well.

 

The biggest surprise came in the evening when, worn out but happy, Jester finally made her way back to her room. As she opened the small door she was shocked to find that the crowded, dirty space she remembered had disappeared. All the storage goods had been removed, the surfaces wiped clean of dust, and the bed made with a fresh blanket and sheets.

 

All the stories she'd ever heard about pirates played through her head, making the clean room and thoughtfully made bed appear ludicrous. Between the friendliness of the crew and the unexpected kindness of whoever had thought to have her room cleaned, Jester was starting to wonder if the stories were wrong after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally time for an action scene, woo!

It was a clear, sunny day, the blues of sky and sea broken only by the small white caps of waves and an occasional seabird. The sails were taut, the ropes humming. Occasionally a crew member would shout, or there'd be a burst of song, but the silences between were filled with the sound of wind whispering through the rigging and waves passing beneath the hull.

 

Beau was spending her afternoon, as she often did when things were this slow, relaxing on the quarterdeck with her friends. Days like this were the best. With their course set and the wind strong, there was little to do outside of daily maintenance and cleaning. At the moment, she was busy filling in the captain's log, working in companionable silence beside Caleb, who was transcribing something in his spell book. It was dangerous to keep tables or chairs above decks, not only in case of storms, but in case of fighting, so the only piece of furniture was the small folding table beside the helm, which held Caleb's maps. As a result, they were both lounging on the deck itself, comfortable in the shade of the sails.

 

Ignoring the shade in favor of the salty breeze off the ocean, Yasha and Nott were sitting beside the ship's railing. They were playing some sort of gambling game with Nott's  _ definitely _ -not-weighted dice. Fjord, Beau knew, would be up on the forecastle at this time of the day, supervising the day watch, or maybe down in the cargo hold talking inventory. Caduceus was probably starting dinner, along with his new “assistant”. Unfortunately for him. 

 

Caduceus wasn't one to complain, but the kitchen  _ was _ small, and Beau got the impression that Jester wasn’t a big fan of cooking either. They would need to find a different job to train their new cleric in, to keep her busy when her healing abilities weren't needed. Maybe Gallan could be convinced to teach her some carpentry? A second carpenter would be nearly as useful as a second healer. 

 

Yes, that was a good idea. Beau put a note in the log, reminding herself to talk to the man once they arrived in the Swavain isles. It would be better to wait until he was in a good mood, because tensions were still running high. They'd all been at sea too long without a break, and the food and water stores were getting low. 

 

Well, the decent stores were running low. They had Caduceus, and now Jester, to cast Create Food and Water, so they were in little danger of actually starving, but everything created by Caduceus's magic tasted disgustingly of mold. They hadn't removed Jester's magic inhibitor yet, just in case, but Beau somehow had a feeling that her magic would taste like pure sugar. More appealing than mold, maybe, but sure to become unpleasant quickly. 

 

_ And speak of the devil _ she thought, catching a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. The tiefling had emerged from below decks and was wandering around, seemingly looking for something to do. Beau watched as she stopped to talk to first one, then another crew member, only to be politely turned away each time. 

 

It was impossible to dislike their new healer, with her bubbly personality and cute mannerisms. Beau was under no illusions about what they were doing to the girl, who clearly hated being constrained--something Beau could sympathize with. If Beau was in the same position, she was sure she'd be picking a fight with anyone who tried to talk to her. Jester, in comparison, was always cheerful and friendly, as if she couldn't imagine behaving any other way.

 

And so, no one disliked the healer, but it was clear that the crew saw her as something of a guest. She had no sailing skills to speak of, and likely no ability to fight either. As a result, she'd been kept at a polite distance by everyone except Nott and Caduceus for most of the week she'd been onboard. 

 

Beau watched the cleric wander around, looking lost, for a moment more before conscience made her call out. “Hey, Jester, c'mon up here!” She shouted. Technically the quarterdeck, on any ship, was only for the officers, but even a conscripted healer was an officer in her own right. 

 

Jester turned at the sound of her name, then smiled brightly and waved at her. “Coming, Captain Beau!” she shouted back. The wind caught her hair, tossing it around her face as she waved.  _ Fuck  _ she was cute. For an instant Beau regretted calling out to her--the less time she spent around the pretty cleric, the better for everyone involved. Still, it wasn't fair to ignore her either. 

 

“Yeah, Jester!” Came Nott's screechy voice behind her, startling Beau from her thoughts. “Come join us! Yasha and I are playing Liar's Dice.” 

 

Jester started across the deck toward them, but at that moment a bell started to clang, far overhead. 

 

“Fuck,” Beau said, grabbing her quarterstaff and coming instantly to her feet. It was a sound she'd been dreading for the last two days. 

 

“Shadow in the water!” she heard Fjord shout, confirming what the lookout in the crow's nest had seen. “And it ain't a whale!”

 

Beau put her captain face on and began barking orders. This was not a disaster. This wasn't even unexpected, considering the waters they were in. But fuck if it wasn't a problem. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nott take off running for the gun deck as Caleb hurriedly gathered up his spell books and maps. Her crew was well trained, and most of them were armed and on deck by the time the bell rang a second time.

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

The waters between Port Zoon and the Swavain isles were a kraken breeding ground. In the past, it had been safe enough to sail through as long as you were smart about it, but ever since the war had reached the coast, traffic through the breeding grounds had tripled or even quadrupled, aggravating the territorial beasts. The first bell would have given them time to go around, if it was just sunning itself on the surface. The second bell meant it was swimming towards them. 

 

“BRACE!” Fjord shouted, and Beau grabbed for the quarterdeck's railing an instant before the ship jolted violently. She felt their speed drop to almost nothing, even as the sails still strained in the wind. For an eerie moment there was silence. Waves lapped genty at the hull. Beau could feel her heart pounding in her throat, felt the twin coils of worry and anticipation roiling in her gut. A tense second passed, then another. 

 

_ Maybe it's not going to-- _ Beau started to think, but before she could even finish the thought the water around the ship  _ exploded _ . As salt water rained down on them, six massive tentacles rose up, each as tall as the main mast.

 

Beau cursed, and heard screams coming from the deck below. She threw herself into motion, taking the stairs three at a time, then striding across the deck with as much swaggering confidence as she could summon. 

 

“INCOMING!” Someone shouted, and the entire ship shuddered as one of the pinkish tentacles came crashing down on the bow. Another came sliding up the stern, passing over the quarterdeck where Beau had just been standing. The arms were covered in suckers the size of dinner plates, and they tore at the wood as they passed. 

 

“Stay calm!” Beau shouted, “Protect the masts!” The boom of canons rang out, and she thanked whatever gods were listening for Nott's speed. Several of the shots hit their target and the kraken roared. It's voice was so deep a base it couldn't be heard, only felt in the vibration of the wood beneath her feet. The ocean boiled, and the ship lurched as another tentacle wrapped around it from the other side. 

 

“It's trying to wrap us!” She called. “Focus on the port arm!” Men and women shouted battle cries, rushing the tentacle with swords and axes. She saw Yasha dive into the fray, Magician's Judge swinging. An explosion shook the air, and she glanced up to see Caleb's fireball leave a gaping hole in the side of one of the still waving arms. A moment later Fjord's Eldritch Blast tore into its other side. Another round of cannon fire rang out and she felt the monster's furious bellow vibrate through her entire body. The wounded tentacle sunk out of sight. She grinned; they could do this.  

 

“Keep it up!” She shouted, turning towards the tentacle creeping up from the stern. Her staff blows wouldn't be very effective against it, but she couldn't let her crew have  _ all  _ the fun.

 

A tug on her arm froze her mid-step and she spun, so keyed up that she nearly punched Jester in the face before she realized who it was. “Captain!” The tiefling was shouting, barely audible above the boom of the cannons and the cries of battle. “Take it off! Please, I can help!” 

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Beau shouted. “It's not safe up here, get below decks!” There was an explosion of splintered wood to her left, and Beau looked up just in time to see the tentacle incoming. She watched it swing toward her, almost in slow motion, her monk's abilities giving her time to think. She could dodge it easily enough, but it would leave Jester open. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . There was no time! With a final curse, she threw herself bodily at the cleric, shoving her to the deck just as her own back exploded with pain. The fleshy arm hit her like a battering ram, forcing the breath from her lungs and filling her vision with stars as the world became nothing but  _ pain _ . Dimly she saw the main mast coming toward her, far far too quickly.  _ Fuck _ she thought again, and everything went black.

 

 

****

 

 

For a long moment Jester lay frozen in horror, unable to move as the battle raged around her. The captain had saved her life. The captain had--nausea began to roll in her gut. Shit. Shit. She had  _ heard _ the sound of the captain's bones breaking. She'd never imagined that. In all her dreams of adventure, she'd never pictured the sound of bones breaking, or the moans of injured sailors, or the awful, awful stink of blood that filled the air. She  _ hated  _ this. But she hated feeling helpless even more.

 

The tentacle retreated back over the side and Jester forced herself to her feet. She rushed across the pitching deck to where the captain lay crumpled against the mast. When she got there, she couldn't help but gasp. There was blood, a  _ lot _ of blood, streaming from a gash in the woman's head and her body lay at an unnatural angle. 

 

“Oh shit.” She whispered, dropping to her knees. “Oh shit oh no oh please, Traveler!” She reached out to him, desperate, but her magic was still blocked. She couldn't reach him. She couldn't reach him and the captain was going to die after saving her life!

 

No, screw that, she was still a healer. She could fix this. Or at least she could keep the woman stable until someone took the stupid fucking bracelet off. Moving quickly, she grabbed the captain's own belt dagger and used it to cut cloth from the woman's coat for bandages. She wrapped the head wound tightly, hoping it would staunch the bleeding. Then she….shit what should she do? If the captain's ribs were broken moving her could be dangerous, and Jester couldn't heal a punctured lung without magic. If her spine was injured moving her would be even worse and she--

 

The captain wasn't breathing.

 

Jester froze, watching, waiting for her chest to move. She'd been breathing just a moment ago, she was certain of it. But now there was nothing. Slowly, slowly, she lowered her ear to the the captain's chest. Nothing. No sound at all. 

 

“No.” She whispered. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, but she barely noticed. “No, no, no, no, no, TRAVELER, HELP ME!” Her voice rose to a scream, but she could barely hear herself over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. For a long moment there was no response but then, as part of Jester had known there would be, there came a gentle laugh in the back of her mind. 

 

“Of course dear heart.” There was a gentle touch on her wrist and the bracelet shattered into dust. In an instant she was filled with power, more than she had ever felt before. It was as if all the magic she hadn't been able to use was being crammed back into her, all at once. She set her hand on the captain's chest and could see her injuries, as easily as if they'd been labeled on a drawing. It was the work of a moment to stop the bleeding and ease the concussion, a simple thought to straighten the woman's spine and repair its fractures. In her mind's eye, her hands danced over the woman's ribs and collar bone, setting the healing process into motion. A gentle touch restarted the heart, and a caress erased the worst of the organ damage. 

 

Then her magic was running low, and she knew she didn't have the strength to bring the captain back to full health. Better to save some spell slots and join the fight. There was one last thing she had to do, however.

 

Ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her head squeaking “oh my gods this is my first kiss”, she pressed her fingers into the captain's jaw, gently tilting her head up and pressing their lips together. Pinching the woman's nose shut, she blew into her mouth, reinflating her lungs. With her magic, she reminded the heart to continue beating, reminded the lungs to deflate. Breath sighed out of the captain's mouth. 

 

“Come on.” She begged, pressing their lips together again. This time it worked. The captain breathed out and then, gasping, breathed back in, her eyes shooting open. 

 

“Wha--” she gasped, trying to sit up. She looked barely conscious, her expression dazed.  

 

“Nope, nope, nope” Jester said urgently, grabbing at her shoulders to keep her lying down. “You’re okay, you're okay, but you're still  _ really _ injured, and I need you to stay down there.”

 

The captain--well they were probably on a first name basis now, considering Jester had just kissed her back to life--Beau allowed herself to be pushed gently down. Her eyes, focused on Jester's face, had a dreamy look to them.

 

“Heyyyyy” she said grinning, her voice slightly slurred. “Is this heaven? Cause--no wait, that's only funny with Yasha…….Yasha……Ya--oh FUCK, my crew!”

 

Awareness rushed back into the woman's eyes and she shot upright, making it nearly to her  feet before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed. Jester caught her before she fell, glad for her strength as she laid the woman gently back down on the deck. She was  _ pretty sure  _ she'd healed Beau's concussion up correctly, so she’d probably just passed out from the pain of all those still-kind-of-broken bones. Should she burn another healing spell to bring her back to consciousness? It would probably take all the magic she had left to get Beau up and moving around again.

 

An explosion sounded off to her right, close enough that the force of the blast rocked her back on her feet. A quick look around showed only three tentacles still in the fight, but any number of crew members injured or dying, scattered across the deck like dolls spilled from a toy chest. The magic she had left was  _ maybe _ enough to bring Beau back up to fighting strength. Or, maybe, enough to help them win the fight and stabilize the crew members. 

 

She looked out across the ship, at the injuries and the terrified expressions. She'd never really been in a battle before, never faced actual death. A part of her was scared. Really really scared. A part of her wanted to use up all her magic healing Beau, call it good, and spend the rest of the fight hiding below decks. No one would blame her, really. No one except herself. 

 

She looked at Beau. She looked at the tentacles, one wiggling in the air, the other two trying to rip the ship to pieces. She looked at the people whose lives she might be able to save. She made a decision. 

 

Carefully, quickly, she gathered up the limp captain. There was a small room beneath the quarterdeck where the maps and navigation equipment were stored so, keeping an eye out for attacking tentacles, she rushed across the deck to deposit Beau inside. Then she shut the door, took a deep breath, and cast Spiritual Weapon.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

Beau woke slowly. She was in her cabin, in her own bed. There were no lights on in the room, but there was sunlight coming in through the curtains of her small window, just enough to see by. Her head ached, and she was desperately thirsty. With a groan, she started to sit up, only to freeze as the movement shot starbursts of pain throughout her body. Oh shit, yeah, that had happened. She remembered being slammed hard into the mast, hard enough that she should have been dead. How was she not dead?

 

“You're awake.” Came a pleased rumble from the corner of the room. With her human eyes, she could barely make out the shape of Caduceus sitting on the floor. He looked as if he'd been meditating.

 

“Apparently.” She rasped out, moving more cautiously into a sitting position. She paid attention as she did, cataloguing each twinge and ache. She was sore as hell, but her injuries seemed surprisingly minor. The pain was the ache of of bones set well and healing straight, of muscles ill-used but not torn. “How's everyone else?”

 

When he spoke, she could hear the smile in Caduceus's voice. “We came through it pretty well, all things considered. No one died--well, except you of course.” He chuckled a little. “Miss Jester was actually a great help near the end. Took out one of the tentacles by herself.”

 

Beau felt surprised and...strangely gratified to hear that. She'd thought of Jester as sheltered, fragile even, but she'd never been happier to be wrong.

 

“She healed me, huh? Thought she wasn't interested in helping pirates.”

 

Caduceus chuckled again, longer this time. “I, uh, think she may have reconsidered.” He gestured toward the foot of the bed and Beau suddenly realized that what she'd thought was a lump of blankets was actually a head resting against the mattress. A head crowned by two curly horns. Now that she had noticed, she realized she could hear the gentle sound of snoring filling the room. “Try not to wake her,” he said cheerfully. “She used the last of her magic on the crew and then stayed up all night watching over you. I only got her to sleep by reminding her she needed her spell slots back.”

 

“Oh.” Beau felt her stomach jolt strangely, as something in her chest tightened.“Um. I was that badly off, huh?”

 

“No,” Caduceus said, looking at her far too knowingly. “She got you stable with her first spell, but she was still worried. You saved her life, I hear? It seems like it made...something of an impression on her.”

 

Beau resisted the urge to squirm beneath the weight of Caduceus's gaze. It didn't help that she could feel her face burning, although her dark skin hopefully hid her blush. “Oh.” She said. “Uh, cool.”

 

Caduceus just smiled and got slowly to feet. “You must be hungry, and thirsty, by now. I'll go whip something up.” He said, and left her alone in the room with the snoring tiefling. The snoring tiefling who'd cared enough to stay up all night for her. The snoring tiefling who'd saved her life, and who's life she'd saved.

 

Beau liked to keep up a strong front. She was an asshole and she knew it, because if people were going to fuck off on you eventually, why bother being nice to them? And at least she always knew exactly why people didn't like her. The officers were the first people in a long time, maybe in her entire life, that cared about her as much as she cared about them. So, maybe she was a _little_ touched by the sight of Jester asleep at the foot of her bed. Fucking sue her.

 

There was no need for Cad's pointed looks, either. Literally nothing was going to come of this. In case he'd forgotten, Jester was currently a _prisoner_ on board their ship, and Beau wasn't the kind of asshole who'd take advantage of that. At the next port, maybe she could--. No. No, it was still too important to have a second healer on board. _Especially_ one who could handle herself in a fight. Ever since the war between Xhorhas and the empire had spilled over to the coast, things had been dangerous. Run-ins with the Navy had already cost Beau a number of good sailors and, as they'd seen yesterday, the heavier ocean traffic was stirring up the more dangerous kinds of marine life. Beau wouldn't, _couldn't_ let her crew die for the sake of her squirming conscience.

 

There was one option, though. Most professional healers had already been conscripted, but there were still some working on merchant ships. They would be used to a life at sea, and many would have already spent time aboard a pirate ship. It was pretty standard practice for pirates to “force” healers (or carpenters, navigators, skilled fighters, etc.) on board when they found them, although most came willingly. It was well known that a stint of piracy could be lucrative, and as long as they didn't stay too long or sign the Articles, most port authorities would look the other way. Healers were simply too valuable for them to do anything else. So, if Beau could take a prize ship with a healer on board, she could send Jester on her way and still keep her crew safe.

 

Yep. Easy as that. Next time they took a prize, Jester would be free, and Beau would never see her again. So she'd better not get attached.

 

 

***

 

 

Jester was getting used to living with the pirates. Against her better judgement, and despite the fact that she was still _technically_ a prisoner, she was starting to feel comfortable on board the ship. Although, maybe prisoner was an overstatement. With her magic back, she could probably escape if she really really wanted to. Caleb hadn't bothered to block it again after the fight. Upon hearing that the Traveler had simply disintegrated the bracelet, he’d just sighed and asked her not to kill them in their sleep.

 

The problem was, she wasn't _entirely_ sure she wanted to escape. _Technically_ , if she was honest with herself, she was maybe a tiny bit more than 'used to’ the pirates. And if she was really, really, really honest with herself, Jester kind of had to admit that she _loved_ living with them.

 

Everything had changed in the week since they'd fought the kraken. The pirates had been polite before, but now they were _friendly_. Jester could barely cross the deck without being called over to chat, or hold a rope, or heal a small wound. The crew and officers alike invited her to eat with them, or join their card games, or to participate in the small plays and performances that kept the crew entertained. More than that, and somehow more flattering, she was expected to join in the work as well.

 

Where before most of the sailors had shooed her out of their way, most would now pull her aside to show her what they were working on. She learned to tie knots and work the sails, to climb the rigging and to fire a cannon. She wasn't _good_ at any of these things yet, but most of her teachers were surprisingly patient. It was as if, after the fight, they had decided she was someone worth keeping around.

 

Amazingly, the officers had been even more welcoming than the crew. It had been Jester's fault that Beau was even injured in the first place, but for some reason she was being treated like a bit of a hero. Each of them had found a moment to thank her, privately, for saving their friend’s life. And it was clear now that “friends” was what they were to each other, not just fellow officers. Their easy banter and casual affection when away from the crew was surprising, and endearing. Especially after they had started to include her in their jokes.

 

Jester had never had a big group of friends before. Or, really, any friends aside from the Traveler. There had been people she was close to, of course. Her mama, and Blude, and some of the people who'd worked at the Chateaux over the years. But, they hadn't been _friends_ , not in the way this rag-tag group was. They were always, always, laughing and talking and fighting with each other. Every moment she spent with them was chaotic--and Jester _loved_ chaos.

 

Her newfound friendships had started while she was taking care of Beau after the fight. Since she hadn't been healed fully by magical means, her body had picked up the healing process where Jester had left off. Jester and Caduceus had helped the process along as much as they could, but there _were_ limits to magical healing.

 

Unfortunately for Beau, this meant that she was stuck in bed for a day, and sore and weak for another two days after that. Jester had been playing the nurse while Beau recovered, since it was doubly her fault that the woman was in pain. Even aside from the fact that she got hurt saving Jester's life, it was Jester's choice to join the battle instead of healing her all at once. Not that Jester regretted that decision. She had been helpful. She had _saved lives_. She had fought a crazy giant monster and helped defeat it! And, if she was really really really honest with herself, she was glad she had an excuse to spend time with the captain.

 

At first, her intentions had been entirely pure. She wanted to make up for Beau getting hurt, so she'd stayed by her side the whole time she was recovering, only leaving her alone to sleep or use the bathroom. The whole day she'd been bedridden, Jester had kept her entertained by telling stories she'd heard from the Traveler, reading out loud from books loaned to her by Caleb, and talking with her. Just, talking. They'd ended up chatting for hours about nothing and everything. Most of the officers had stopped by, at one point or another, to stay for a bit or just to check in. But they had their hands full with the repairs, and Beau and Jester were left alone to talk for most of the day.

 

The next morning, Beau had been able to get up and walk around. She strolled the deck, arm in arm with Jester, to congratulate the crew and compliment them on the repairs. Jester heard quite a few wolf whistles and stage-whispered jokes as they walked together, and she was glad no one had noticed that Beau was actually leaning on her, struggling to maintain her balance as she traversed the swaying deck. The jokes bothered her though. They bothered her a _lot_. It wasn't that she was offended by them. It was...sort of the opposite. She kind of, sort of, wanted them to be true.

 

Well, it wasn't _her_ fault if she was attracted to Beau. The captain had literally died to save her, and then been brought back to life by her kiss. It was just like in one of her story books, although in the stories there was usually a handsome prince doing the saving. Beau wasn't really like a prince. She was a girl, for one thing, and an actual pirate for another. But she _was_ brave like a prince, and strong, and kind, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. When they first met, Jester had been put off by Beau's gruff attitude, but the more time she spent with her, the more she saw that it was just a front. She cared, deeply, about other people. And Jester was maybe kind of sort of starting to care a lot about her.

  


 

****

 

 

Beau was fully healed by the time they reached Brokenbank Isle. That was lucky, since she was going to need her full faculties to deal with the island. Brokenbank had always reminded her of a venus fly trap. Looking at it from where they were, just offshore, it seemed inviting. Its yellow sand beaches and mangrove forests set off the jewel-like blue of the shallow water. The island sloped up away from them, its tangled jungle smoothing into verdant forest as it ran up the slopes of a massive, long dead volcano.

 

Even from this distance she could hear the shrieking of birds and monkeys in the canopy, smell the vibrant scents of soil and green things growing, so different from the clean salt of the ocean. The air was still and humid here, the wind weak. They may have to rely on Control Water spells to get up the river. Since the alternative was hiring one of Swamphold's extortionately priced tug boats, Beau was grateful again to have a second cleric on board.

 

Swamphold was a smuggler's haven, one of the many threats hidden behind the island's unassuming exterior. Unlike Port Zoon or even the pirate kingdom of Darktow, the town was truly lawless. It was hidden well upriver in--as the name suggested--a fetid swamp. Normally Beau would never dream of taking her ship so far inland, but the river way and parts of the swamp itself had been artificially deepened by the druids who lived there. They kept the passageway clear, in return for tribute from the pirates and smugglers, and made sure any Concorde ships found their way blocked by sandbars.

 

She watched the mouth of the river ahead of them draw slowly closer, feeling dread curl in her stomach. Swamphold was dangerous. The port was diseased, violent, and hedonistic. Murder and theft were rampant here, and even a simple bar fight could turn deadly in a moment. If she sailed out of here with as many sailors as she came in with, it would be a miracle.

 

As she stood lost in thought, she felt more than heard someone coming up behind her. The faint scent of lavender pulled her thoughts instantly back to the present, and the gentle brush of a hip against hers set her entire body humming. Jester stepped up to the rail beside her, eyes dancing above a broad grin.

 

“It's so _pretty_!” She said, excitement clear in her voice.

 

Beau turned her eyes back to the coastline, trying to see it with fresh eyes. She could feel Jester bouncing slightly with the force of her enthusiasm, and couldn't help but smile. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She said.

 

“Do you think we'll have a chance to go swimming there? The water looks so clear!”

 

 _Say no_ , she told herself. Making a trek through the jungle to reach the beach would be a _stupid_ fucking idea. The island was crawling with poisonous insects and dangerous beasts.

 

“If you really want to, I'm sure we could figure something out.” She said instead. If worst came to worst, she could always blow her share of the loot hiring a Druid to clear their path.“We’ll be here for a few days after all.”

 

The smile Jester gave her was worth _any_ amount of money.

 

“Everybody hold on to something!” She heard Fjord shout, and looked up to find the ship bearing down on the river mouth. Swirling tendrils of brown water met blue, creating an underwater maelstrom. As the ship hit the boundary it shuddered and bucked. Jester, caught mid-bounce, squeaked in surprise as she lost her balance and stumbled into Beau.

 

For just an instant she let her arms wrap around the cleric, steadying her as the ship made it through the rough water. Jester's soft, curvy body was pressed against her hard and angular one, the smell of lavender filling her senses. She looked down and felt her heart falter as her gaze met wide violet eyes, so close to her own.

 

“Thanks,” Jester murmured, and Beau's gaze was drawn inexorably to her lips. They were blue, a darker blue than Jester's skin, and full, and they looked so, so soft. Beau wondered what they tasted like, how Jester would react if she kissed her.

 

 _Probably really fucking badly_. The more reasonable side of her brain said. Immediate guilt flooded her. What the fuck was she doing? What happened to not taking advantage of Jester? With shame burning her ears and cheeks, she stepped backwards and dropped her arms.

 

“No problem.” She said; a belated response to a simple courtesy. Then she turned, too fast to notice Jester's disappointed expression, and strode away as quickly and purposefully as she could. The ship continued upriver.

**Author's Note:**

> I read one (1) book about the history of Piracy and this is what happened. This fic will probably be pretty long! I'm saying ten chapters now, but we'll see. Updates every Wednesdayish


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